Incarnate
by Driftingthought
Summary: There is only one thing that Robin truly fears. Maybe it's just taken him this long to realize it.
1. No Distractions

Rated T for blood, mental instability, death, adult themes, disturbing elements, and overall suspense.

* * *

 **Incarnate**

Barely had the Tower alarms gone off than Robin was up. Rolling off his bed and onto his feet like the acrobat that he was, Robin raced from his room toward the main one, wondering who it was the Titans would take down this time. As he passed by their rooms, he shouted for them to wake up. It was just for good measure. Beast Boy was a heavy sleeper, after all, and once the Tower alarms hadn't even woken him up. Only after the other four had returned home with pizza did he leap from his slumber. _That_ had woken him up.

As usual, Robin was the first to reach the main room and access the Tower's database system to see where in Jump City the crime was happening. Barely had he locked onto the proper security camera than his rage started to simmer. There it was. There _he_ was.

Maybe it was the fact that he hated being woken up at three in the morning, but Robin found that his anger was practically uncontrollable as he stared at the screen for a few more seconds, wishing he could put an end to the man from here and return to bed.

He was so cruel. So powerful and cunning. So wicked. He was the antithesis of everything Robin himself strove to be, and this was why they were enemies. This was why it was Robin's single goal in life to take him down. Permanently.

Was this a hero's way? Perhaps. Though perhaps not. Slade had often said how alike the two of them were. . .

No. Taking down evil did not make him evil. Neither did cutting him down. . .making him suffer just as much as Robin himself had. . .

Robin turned away from the control panel, letting out a growl of anger. Where were the Titans, anyway? It'd been several minutes since the alarms had sounded. How could they still be sleeping with the alarms going off? Weren't they up yet; what was wrong with them? Sure, Beast Boy might still be sleeping, but Cyborg was always the second one to arrive in the main room. Then Raven and Starfire. Didn't the Titans understand that they were a team? So, then, where were they? Where was his team?

Robin rubbed his hands together to brace himself, then left the Tower with another growl still in his throat. Fine. Let the Titans stay in the Tower while he took down Slade by himself. He knew he could do it. He didn't need them. Didn't really want them either, at least not at the moment. He was fine being alone. By now he was almost used to it.

As Robin ran toward his destination, his body was already itching to do battle. He took out his bow staff and several batarangs to prepare, then continued onward, mentally steeling himself for a battle that would finally rid him of his foe. He would take down Slade. He was tired of this cat and mouse game. This time, he would become the wolf.

He would rip and tear into his prey. Then all would be over. He would win and never again have to look over his shoulder with quickening breath, wondering if the shadow behind him would materialize and become his greatest foe.

For he hated Slade. Hated him as the villain that he was. Each time a thought of the man crossed his mind, Robin loathed his incredible wit, cunning, and strength. That was all. Nothing more. He wasn't. . .he wasn't. . .

And where were the Titans?! Robin himself was already in Jump City! Were they still sleeping, or had they somehow beaten him both to the Tower's control panel and to Slade's location? Why weren't they here?

Fine. Fine! Be that way! He didn't need them! Though Robin was nearly beside himself with rage due to the fact that they weren't beside him. As they should be. But fine. He'd lay into them later. For now, he could focus all his rage and energy on the villain he was about to face. Robin knew personally that Slade could take it all and then some, giving twice as much as he got in every situation.

He liked it more this way. Facing Slade alone. Preferred it, actually. His friends would never understand. Never understand his thoughts and feelings toward the man, and how, when they were absent, Robin could relax, fully let go, and allow hatred and rage to both cloud his judgment and enhance it. Only then could he push down any distraction or doubt and fight in the single thought of bringing Slade down. Only then would he not. . .

And it was then that the Titans would appear. Robin hated it. Hated the fact that, whenever his friends were present, he couldn't fight his fullest against Slade. Couldn't demonstrate his full rage lest the Titans see and view him as less because of it. And so, unable to consume every fiber of his being with hatred, Robin's thoughts drifted. His concentrative determination faltered, and in that moment he hated the Titans even more than he hated Slade. Because didn't they know that if he was unable to focus all on his hatred of Slade that—

But this was good. This was right. He didn't need them, didn't need the Titans. Wondered where they were, yes. Was severely angry and annoyed with their shirking their responsibility as heroes. But was glad for their absence.

For in his hatred, he became strong. In his euphoria at the thought of ending the man whom he faced, he became so much more than even the Titans could understand. Then. Then, he. . .

So when Robin stopped in the middle of Jump City, his eyes and ears alert to Slade, and when he spotted the man rather quickly, he wasn't surprised by the strength with which he threw his bow staff like a spear. It neither fazed nor distracted him when Slade fluidly sidestepped the attack and Robin's staff hit the building behind Slade with such force that it shattered every single one of the building's windows.

This, with the glass raining down on him and their fighting stances identical, was the moment when he felt alive.

The two clashed, fought, then broke apart. Adrenaline spurred Robin to jump higher and fight harder. Slade easily met and beat him back blow for blow. No words were exchanged until after Robin was thoroughly exhausted.

"Such brutality, Robin. Impressive," Slade said, motioning to several now-destroyed buildings that surrounded the pair. Unfortunately all of Robin's bombs and batarangs had missed Slade. Robin cringed a bit at the man's words, but he reminded himself that it wasn't too bad. Due to the lateness of the hour, no one was inhabiting the buildings that Robin had felled. Right? What about the surrounding area, though?

Remembering his bomb's explosion, Robin's gaze briefly fell on a large piece of rubble nearby, then snapped back to Slade. No, no. He couldn't falter; nothing else was important. He couldn't let his focus wander. Because if he did— "I'm going to. . .take you down, Slade," Robin said, panting through his gritted teeth. "And this time it'll be permanent."

"Is that so?" Slade asked, and Robin hated his casual tone. "If that truly is your intention, you will need more. . .teamwork. Where is your team, Robin?"

The question caused Robin to pause, then grip his bow staff tighter. Trickery and distraction were both traits that Slade had mastered, and Robin would fall for neither. Not now. Not this time. He had to stay focused. That was the only way. . . "Doesn't matter. What do you care?"

"I care not. But you should."


	2. Uncertainty

Robin blinked, feeling his concentration waver as it always did when Slade began his battle of wit and deception. "I do," he growled.

"On the contrary," Slade said. "You have not, as of yet, shown any indication that their lack of appearance on this battlefield worries you in the slightest."

Robin frowned, doubt beginning to take hold. Was something going on? "So? I don't need them to take you down. They're back at the Tower, anyway. Sleeping."

Slade's eye seemed to glow then. "Are you certain?"

Robin faltered, stepping backward as apprehension gripped him tighter. "Y-yes."

"And it concerns you not that you responded to a false alarm earlier today at Jump City's Wayne Enterprises facility?"

Now worry was starting to mess with Robin's judgment. He blinked twice. Slade was right. Earlier that day, only a few hours ago, in fact, the Titans had responded to alarms going off at Wayne Enterprises only to find that it'd all been a false alarm. The Titans had then spent three hours combing the entire facility, paying special attention to the maximum security vault which housed incredibly powerful weapons, only to find that nothing had been tampered with or stolen. No screws were loosened or panels moved for easy access at a later date. No structural weakening or damage. Not even the molecular displacement bomb, an invention which destroyed the very bonds between molecules themselves—Wayne Enterprises most lethal and important weapon, had been moved a single millimeter. All was well. But. . . "How did you know about that?" Robin asked.

Slade seemed to smile then. "If you had been more observant, you would've realized that the molecular displacement bomb now inside the facility is a fake."

It seemed to take Robin much longer than normal to process Slade's words. "W-what?" It made no sense to Robin. Security cameras kept track of every square inch of the building. The Titans themselves had run multiple scans to ensure no living being had entered the building within the last twenty-four hours. Alarms were triggered even when a fly flew in. It was impossible to think that Slade could get in, steal the bomb, and replace it without being spotted. In addition to that, Cyborg had run at least fifty tests to ensure the bomb itself was, indeed, authentic and as lethal as it had been the day before. "No, you're—lying."

Slade tipped his head slightly, and his expression told Robin volumes above anything the man could've ever said.

Robin didn't notice that his breathing had quickened. "How did. . .how could you replace it without Cyborg—"

"The metal one erred in his calculations," Slade said coolly. "He assumed that the bomb was real and ran tests from that viewpoint. He never once considered that it was not."

Robin swallowed, fear beginning to drip down into his system as though from an invisible overhead cloud. "Where is it? What did you do with it?"

"Therein lays the reason as to why you are here, Robin," Slade said, now circling him.

"What do you mean?" Robin asked sharply, his movements no longer fluid as he strained to keep up with Slade's slow walk and quick logic.

"A bomb that is a fake. Your Tower alarms which sound yet do not rouse your friends. Now, here you are while they are still absent."

Robin licked his lips, feeling his heartbeat in his throat. "What are you getting at?"

"The molecular displacement bomb, Robin," Slade said, a sneer creeping into his voice as Robin failed to comprehend. "Designed to annihilate any fully-human being. It is set to go off in seven minutes. Its radius. . .your precious Jump City."

Robin staggered, his mind already thinking through the consequences of such an event. The molecular displacement bomb targeted anything living and tore it apart from the inside out. If the bomb went off. . .Jump City would. . .

Robin looked up at Slade, gritting his teeth and smiling a bit despite his fear. "Doesn't matter," he said. "I'll find that bomb. I'll stop it and I'll stop you. Then I'll come back and—"

"What of your friends, Robin?" Slade asked.

Robin, now frazzled by the thought of finding the bomb in time, let anger best him. Why did Slade keep bringing them up? They didn't matter; not now! "What about them?! They'll help me find the bomb and they'll stop you, too!"

"Of course they will."

Slade's words were so icy that they froze Robin to the spot, and for a moment he panicked. "W-what do you. . .mean?"

"Six minutes, Robin. Tick tock."

Robin was about to say more, was about to try to figure out where Slade had hidden the bomb, when suddenly, behind Slade, the screen on the side of the building lit up, nearly blinding him. Once his eyes had adjusted, he saw an image of the molecular displacement bomb sitting in a cave, and he almost laughed as he realized he knew where the cave was. Slade was playing his hand far too carelessly. The cave, judging by its shape and structure, was on the outskirts of Jump City. The east side. It wouldn't take three minutes for him to get there. He had plenty of time to disable the bomb and stop Slade.

Robin laughed then, looking back at Slade, but his gleeful air vanished when he saw Slade's fiery expression. Robin's smile fell and he faltered, unable to understand. He was already victorious, why did Slade—

A second screen, this one behind Robin, lit up then. The light from the screen hadn't even reached Robin before a sound shook him to his core. It was screaming, and as Robin turned, he already knew, for it was as clear as his own voice and reflection, to whom the screams belonged.

It was the Titans. But how? Why? What was. . .

Robin turned fully, horrified to see that the Titans were trapped in a cage. The cage, made of metal and suspended over lava. The Titans, somehow unable to get out even with all their powers combined. And the cage, the _cage_ , was slowly nearing the lava and once it hit. . .the Titans would—

Robin didn't even realize that his mind was already in the process of locating the Titans until he'd done it. The scratches on the metal walls and the curvature of the room told him all he needed to know. The final piece of the puzzle was the upright lever some distance away from the cage itself which Robin knew would trigger the cage's release. The west side of Jump City. Four minutes away. And judging by how close the cage was to the lava, it would be just enough time. He had to go. He had to get there. He had to save them.

Robin turned back to the image of the bomb on the screen behind Slade, then again to the Titans. He breathed in to focus himself, fighting to stay calm. Why was Slade doing this? What was going on? "How did you capture the Titans?"

"Tower alarms will do nothing if its inhabitants are under the influence of chloroform gas," Slade said.

Robin's eyes widened, clenching his fists to stop them from shaking. Chloroform?

"Yes, Robin, I'm sure you know of it," Slade continued. "Half an hour was more than enough time to extract them all and leave with you suspecting nothing."

Robin looked back at the Titans on the screen behind him. "Why they can't escape?"


	3. Understanding

"Come now, Robin," Slade said, almost laughing now. "After all our battles, would you think it impossible for me to detect your entire team's strengths and weaknesses? It was simple to construct a cage impenetrable to both alien attacks and manmade ones."

Robin's eyes narrowed, breathing in again to calm himself and his nerves. Slade still thought he was going to win, but Robin knew that he would be the victorious one. He would return to this very spot and end Slade where he stood. He would no longer participate in battles such as these. Slade would drop his guard on this very night, and it would be then that Robin would strike. His aim would be true. He would no longer— "You've already overplayed your hand, Slade. You've shown me where the bomb and the Titans are. I'll get the Titans, we'll get that bomb, then I'll come back for you. You lose, Slade." If Robin had been paying more attention, he might have been confused or worried by Slade's brief look of triumph. It might've given him pause and caused him to see his situation in a different light.

"Robin, do you not understand? Are you that unintelligent?"

Robin nearly breathed out fire at these words. Slade had struck a nerve, for Robin was, as of yet, unable to understand half of what Slade had been saying. Why was the man toying with him?! "Of course I do," he snarled. "We'll stop you. I'll save everyone and—"

"Robin, how would you reach them both in time?"

Robin blinked. He hadn't thought of that. No matter. He was a hero; heroes never lost. "I will."

"No, Robin." Slade's voice had dropped to a whisper. "You will not."

Robin blinked again, harder this time. His head was pounding. This didn't make sense. None of it made sense! "What do you—"

"The molecular bomb. A lethal weapon designed to destroy fully human beings. Your friends are not of that category. Two are alien. One is more machine than man, and the last is neither man nor beast. You, however, are but a human. A human who must make a choice: the Titans, or yourself and your precious Jump City. Choose, Robin."

Robin blinked in confusion. Paused, then blinked again. Wait, what? What? What was Slade talking. . .about. . .

No. No. _No!_

The full weight of realization crashed upon Robin then. For a moment he was unable to do more than stand, frozen as though unable to think or feel or comprehend, and then it all burst from him in a rush. He fell to his knees with his head in his hands, unable to even scream. No, this couldn't be. But the bomb, and the Titans; Slade was right.

He was _right_.

Robin felt himself cracking as he kept his head bowed, breathing far too heavily and rocking back and forth as though this would give him some semblance of comfort. That it might fix his crushing situation.

"Robin. Choose."

Robin looked up at Slade then. Looked up at Slade with the eyes of not a leader or even a hero, but as a boy. A child. A very young child who'd just been struck on the face and was completely unable to even fathom. . .

Robin had thought he knew Slade. He'd seen the man's cruelty and brutality time and time again. The bots, the neural interface suit, death threats, psychological torture, everything. From the instant they'd met, Robin thought he knew the depths of Slade's evil, black heart. But this, this was so much. . .never in his life could Robin even begin to—

"S-Slade," Robin whispered, "Slade, I'll do whatever y-you want. _Slade_ , _please_. . ." Robin no longer cared about the posture he was assuming. The thought of rising up and facing Slade wasn't even a whisper inside his head. His only world was the crushing weight on his body and the thickness of the words he poured out. All he knew was that he needed this. Needed Slade to understand, down to the very marrow of his bones. He needed Slade to understand _that this_ —

Maybe then, the man might relent. Perhaps if Robin prostrated himself as the thrall that he was, if the aura that surrounded his words were desperate enough, Slade would yield.

But even as Robin's voice rang out like a funeral bell, even as he looked, he saw that Slade moved not. Neither his posture nor his gaze wavered in the slightest. The man only watched and said nothing. In fact, all Robin's words did was cause Slade's single eye to glow even brighter. And that was the worst of all.

"N-no, Slade. Don't m-make me do this. Please, I'll do a-anything." Robin's voice shook worse than his body, but he knew it was to no avail. Slade stepped forward.

"No, Robin. This is your choice. And it is a choice that you _will_ make."

Robin recoiled, letting out a whimper as the man's brutal, harsh words struck him like a whip and dug into his flesh like a blade. And when Slade picked Robin up by the scruff of his uniform and hauled him to his feet, Robin didn't even attempt to fight back. He merely stood, breathing hard, his vision blurry and unfocused. He couldn't do this. He _couldn't_.

"Five minutes, Robin. Make your choice."

Slade's words somehow spurred Robin into a semi-conscious state of action. He staggered backward with a strangled cry, whirling stiffly around as he tried to make his decision. But his mind and his very thoughts seemed to fail him. He could no longer think. No longer process. Robin felt as though he'd taken a drug that completely disoriented him.

Each direction Robin looked seemed identical to the last, and despite the fact that he knew Jump City better than his own name, Robin was unable to pinpoint which direction he now faced. Was it east or west? Or was it north? Was it even a proper direction?

No, he couldn't do this. He couldn't do this!

Robin collapsed to his knees, forced himself up, then collapsed again. Maybe this was what going crazy felt like. Breathing in, Robin searched until he found Slade, a silent plea on both his lips and his expression. Then Slade, his pose unyielding and his expression one of ice, allowed a cruel smile before pointing behind him.

"East."

Robin got up, swallowing twice before turning around to orient himself. East, behind Slade. Where the bomb was. West, behind himself. Where the Titans were.

But which one should he choose?!

Robin chose his direction, then stopped himself so abruptly that he tripped and fell before racing in the opposite direction. He did this twice more, panic and fear threatening to tear him apart. Time was ticking down. He had to make a decision. He had to make it now.

Finally, Robin chose. He raced toward his destination, and he thought he could hear Slade laughing behind him as he ran. But it was his decision, and he kept running.

Robin was selfish. He was so utterly and completely selfish. And he somehow knew, even as he was making his decision, that the choice he had made was wrong. He should've gone the other way. He should've chosen the other direction.

Yet Robin still continued, his eyes stinging from more than just the wind as he ran, each breath coming out in a choking gasp. He left Jump City far behind as he continued onward. Robin knew he had no time to change his decision now. It was too late; he couldn't turn back. His decision was final.


	4. Lethal Mistake

At least he wouldn't die.

But was it right? Was it right of him to choose this? To be placed in this position and not take the other path? How could he, as a hero and as a leader, live with his current decision? How could he not have chosen otherwise?

At least he wouldn't die.

He should've turned back. He should turn back. Now. Turn around now. But, no, time was not on his side. He was nearing his destination and it was already too late. This was a decision that would be set in stone forever. He would live with this. He would live with it for eternity.

It was the wrong choice. Robin knew this to be true, all the way down to the blood that flowed through is veins. He was so selfish. How could he call himself a hero when he'd made this monumental, life-changing decision based solely on his emotions? How was it morally right?

How?

Robin was but a human. He had made his decision based on his flawed humanity. A burst of his own fleeting emotions had made the choice for him. It was a wretched thing to do. A wretched decision. And it was the wrong one.

But he wouldn't die. He wouldn't die.

And, as Robin reached his destination and paused before entering, he remembered that he was selfish. He wiped his face and knew that his decision, if placed in the hands of any Titan other than himself, would've had a vastly different outcome. But it was his choice. He had made it of his own free will.

So, Robin looked forward as he entered. He looked forward with shame and resolution at his own decision, for he knew that the decision was final. His steps were heavy, and they rang out as he made his way forward. The walls of the room were smooth, and they shone like glass, like a mirror that refused to display his own disgusting reflection, as he made his way toward his location.

The Titans. Maybe he could say goodbye to them before. . .before—

Before he died.

The decision, Robin's own decision, to sacrifice himself and the entire population of Jump City, was neither noble nor heroic. Because Robin knew that he would rather die than live. Live as though he were already dead. Live with the knowledge of knowing. . .knowing that. . .

And so, his decision was made. The Titans would survive. He, their leader, would not. He could not live. Could not live, or even survive with such a weight on his shoulders. With such a crushing burden. And so, his choice, thrust upon him yet still one that he made willingly, was a choice of selfishness. But it was still his decision.

And as Robin made his last few steps toward the Titans, he did not find it strange that he heard no screaming or shouting. The ringing in his ears was too loud. His steps were measured, and he breathed in as looked around the final room, searching for the lever. There. The lever was there as expected. All he had to do was pull it.

Breathing in again, Robin walked over to the lever and, with shaking hands, pulled. He closed his eyes, waiting to feel Starfire's crushing embrace. To tell them of his decision and to hear Cyborg's and Beast Boy's accusatory words. To listen as Raven attempted to devise a plan that Robin himself knew wouldn't work.

It wasn't that Robin didn't fear death. The very thought of it terrified him into a paralyzed state that left him unable to speak, think, or even see. But sacrificing himself for his friends somehow made the fear a bit lighter. All the while making him hate himself for the lives he'd ended, for the path he'd chosen. Jump City's hero was but human. A human whose own guilt would've crushed him if he'd chosen differently. And so, he was selfish. Because of him, the entire population of Jump City would perish. Perish and perhaps know the true intentions of their so-called hero as they died. But the Titans would remain, and this was the one shred of hope that Robin would have to clutch desperately onto as he passed away. As he passed away and. . .

Robin opened his eyes, frowning. He had pulled the lever. The cage was now open. Where were the Titans? Nearing the edge of the platform he was on, Robin looked down, expecting to see both the glow of lava and an open, empty cage.

But it was not there. It was not there. And instead. . .it its place was. . .was. . .

 _No_.

"Robin."

Robin turned, slowly as though not yet able to grasp what had happened.

"Your direction. West, was it not?" Slade asked, as Robin simply stared at the man, still unable to comprehend. "Toward the Titans."

"I. . .I. . .west," Robin breathed out, beginning to shake as he looked back toward the floor below where the _molecular displacement bomb_ stood. "Where a-are. . .Titans. . ."

"Superimposing images is quite an easy task, Robin," Slade said as he stepped forward. "You should know not to trust an enemy."

Something clicked—exploded within Robin's head. He felt as though he were falling. No. Slade had. . .had tricked him. . . "No," he muttered. "I. . .the Titans."

"You are no hero, Robin," Slade said. "To sacrifice an entire city of people whom you swore to protect for the very lives of those who would rather die than watch their precious city burn. . .I believed that such an action was above you, Robin. Such selfishness."

Robin shook his head, looking back at the lever he'd just pulled. "No," he repeated. "T-the Titans. Slade, please no. Please tell me that you didn't—"

"Yes, Robin. You are correct."

The bomb. The Titans. The direction he'd chosen. He had been resolute, willing even, to make his decision. Yet it had all been for nothing. This couldn't. . .couldn't. . .

The lever he'd pulled. It'd been the wrong one. The bomb had been diffused. That meant that the Titans. . .the Titans were. . .

No. _No_. _NO!_

Robin collapsed then. He wasn't aware of the sounds he was making, didn't know the way that his body was twisting and spasming as the knowledge shattered his entire world.

"Rejoice, Robin. Jump City is saved," Slade said. "You are alive."

Robin heaved at the thought, his mouth dry yet his body still trying to drive out something, anything, as though this would lessen the burden. As though he could physically expel the pain, horror, and guilt that consumed him. He was alive. He was alive. This would not kill him, but—

 _But_.

Everything Robin knew was over. His universe was changed. Forevermore it was altered. The sun would shine and life would continue, but he would not. He would not survive. He would simply walk, exist, and be. Life for him was not an option; not anymore.

Perhaps there would be rejoicing in the streets of Jump City. For them to know that they had survived a massacre. Yet they would not know, those humans would not know, that the very one who had saved them was already. . .

Already.

Robin looked up at Slade, despair and anguish swallowing him up as he reached out toward the man. Not to fight or condemn. Not even to blame or accuse. But simply to know. . .

To _know_. . .

Slade approached him then. Robin couldn't hold Slade's cruel gaze, and he looked away as the man reached down and pulled him partway off the floor. "Grieve not, Robin," Slade hissed, forcing Robin's chin up so their eyes met and stroking the side of his face almost affectionately. "You still have me."


	5. Behind the Mask

Robin awoke and shot up with a choked scream, taking a few moments to mentally balance himself before lying back down and clutching his chest.

Three weeks. It'd been three weeks since he and the Titans had broken free from the control of their neural interface suits, and it'd been a rough three weeks for everyone, especially for Robin. He hadn't told them. No, he wouldn't dare tell them the nightmares he'd been having. The lack of sleep and even the staying awake so he wouldn't have to subject himself to such torment. The going into their rooms at four in the morning just to make sure they were still alive. The unease and dread towards the idea of sleep itself. Dreams, though only dreams, seemed truer than reality sometimes. None felt more real than the nightmares he'd been having nearly every night since their escape, and it was at times such as this that Robin hated Slade almost as much as he feared him.

Robin shivered once, wiped the cold sweat off his body, then wiped his face as well, inhaling again. He wondered if Slade knew these things. For in each battle, there always existed apprehension that Slade might see past all of Robin's own hatred and determination. The man would look, and in a blinding instant, know. Slade would see beyond the leader. Beyond the hero. And see instead the child that he was. See therein the fear that devoured him, burning even hotter than his own ire. See the terror that could be used to exploit, to crush, and to shatter.

For Slade was the very villain, the very being, who could kill Robin. Could kill him as he did and had every night for the past three weeks. All the while treating it as not a true battle, but as a game: as a sickening thrill. A rush and euphoric high that only deepened along with the man's own animalistic hunger and brutality. A cruelty that had no end. An intelligence to carry it out. A strength to bring all to completion.

And as Robin saw more of Slade's inhumane, ruthless nature each time they battled, as the man's cruelty intensified, the more his own emotions grew until he would return to the Tower later, perfectly composed, only to shatter in his own room that same night, unable to take it. His nightmares had solidified that fact. Had opened up a part of a world that Robin had known of, yes, but hadn't known to what extent it reached. Now he worried that the next time they battled, Slade would know all. He would see the kind of hero that Robin was. A hero who hadn't slept at all in the last three weeks and one who hadn't slept properly in the last six months. Would know of Robin's inability to focus and his labored, uneasy breathing. Would pay heed to the falter in his step as they fought and hear the racing heartbeat concealed underneath his uniform. The way Robin rubbed his hands together prior to facing Slade, but not out of anticipation. The deep tenseness in his muscles following a battle that was not caused by overexertion. The showers designed to remove so much more than just dirt and sweat.

Slade would see and he would know. Would know the eyes of a boy in a man's world. Of a bird with broken wings, facing a feline.

It'd happened once. The very first night after the Titans' escape, the five had bedded down amid the Tower's rubble. Robin had been exhausted but happy. Content in the fact that he and the Titans were free. Safe. He'd slept in that knowledge. But the night and the darkness had nearly broken him. Though it had not been real, Robin could still remember standing up, facing Slade, and feeling all that he'd pushed down while under the man's rule. No neural interface suit could hold it in check. No focus, no determination or plan to fight and succeed and race to freedom had been there to assist him. No more barriers remained.

It'd been real. Raw. And Slade. Had. _Seen_. . .

He'd stepped forward. He'd moved toward Robin in true and complete understanding, his expression first one of utter shock and amazement, then of predatorial dominance. Of ultimate victory and cruel, sadistic pleasure. Of black intentions as his true ruthless nature, at last, awoke fully from its slumber. . .

" _Robin_. _"_

Robin woke then, somehow finding all the Titans still asleep despite the fact that he knew he hadn't woken silently. And as he struggled to regain his composure, as he looked around at the rubble, he could've sworn that one of the shadows. . .that it was. . .

Robin inhaled sharply, pushing the thoughts and memories away. He rubbed his face with both hands this time, fighting to calm himself. This was why it was his goal to end Slade. Not only to end the villain himself, but also to—

Robin's head shot up, ears attentive. He'd heard something. Hadn't he? No, it was probably just his mind playing tricks on him. It was four in the morning, after all. He was just being paranoid. Robin, however, couldn't stay in his room. Sneaking to the door, he slowly poked his head out and looked around, soothing his anxiety while simultaneously making himself feel very foolish and childish. Who did he think was in the Tower? Slade? No, it was probably just Beast Boy getting up for a snack.

Robin shook his head as he went back into his room, laughing outrightly as he sank back onto his bed. But it was a shallow laugh that ended with Robin blinking too hard.

Why did he feel so vulnerable? Robin knew that Cyborg's lockdown of the Tower was perfect. The security system they had was perfect. It was all perfect.

Yet Slade was the perfect villain. And it always seemed that the one thing that gave was not he, but—

The doubt crept into Robin's mind yet again. Panic clouded his vision and judgment. He shook it off, biting his lip to focus. It was all right. The sun would rise. Slade would withdraw. The Titans would awake and all would be good. Robin just had to keep reminding himself of that. For he had the Titans. He had his own confidence and determination. He had his barrier. With that in place, Slade would not touch him. Would never know of such truth. Robin would make sure of it.

Robin rubbed his face again for good measure and lay back down, contemplating the idea of going back to sleep. Was sleep really worth this? Of course it was. Slade aside, sleep was crucial to his being an efficient leader and hero. A hero that would stand up to Slade no matter what. He had to go back to sleep. But just as he lay back down, Robin realized that his teeth were chattering. Strange. He wasn't cold.

Despite his resolution, it still took Robin thirty minutes before he began to feel drowsy. He yawned once and rolled over, closing his eyes and drawing his blanket nearer.

Then the Tower alarms went off.

ﻯThe Endﻯ

* * *

A/N: This story is, in fact, a short sequel/hidden ending to my other work, The Truth in Lies.


End file.
